


how lucky we are to be alive right now

by fairkidforever



Series: a million things I haven't done [5]
Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Gen, Gift Fic, M/M, Physical Disability, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, a little bit of body horror maybe?, a little bit of internalized ableist bullshit, canon terminal illness, canon-typical angst, ex-hosts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-16 15:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19654381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairkidforever/pseuds/fairkidforever
Summary: After the war is over, at the end, Gafinilan makes the decision not to succumb to Soola's Disease after all. Mertil asks Ax and Marco for help.Set during #54: The Beginning, after 'we won the war (what was it all for?)' but can be read as a stand-alone. Minor Ax/Marco.





	how lucky we are to be alive right now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SkeleStars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkeleStars/gifts).



<Mertil?> Gafinilan’s breathing was ragged. Sweating and shivering, he could barely stand, and when he tried to walk, his knees buckled under him and he stumbled. Still, after all all this time, it was hard for me to accept the evidence of my eyes, to see that he really had become so emaciated, his ribs showing, his coat patchy and ragged. Humans would call this inability to see reality clearly ‘denial.’

Humans would be right, in this case.

<Yes, my love?> I said, shifting closer to him so that he could lean against my withers and hips. He was still much taller than me standing – he had been since we were adolescents and he hit a growth spurt I never got – but so gaunt that I was able to support his weight easily.

<Message the _aristh_ ,> he said. <It’s time.>

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. <You’re ready?> I asked. <I mean, you’re willing to consider… a way out?>

<Yes,> he said. I knew he meant it. I could feel the emotion in his thoughtspeak: equal parts fear and hope, defeat and defiance, shame and acceptance of the inevitable. He could likely sense an equally strong wave of relief in my tone.

<They may not be able to arrive right away,> I said carefully. <They are testifying against Visser One on the other side of the planet, in order to leave without arousing suspicion, they may need to delay their visit.>

<I can wait,> Gafinilan said. <I’ll morph human.>

Staying one step ahead of the Soola’s Disease by morphing every two hours was nearly as exhausting as dealing with the pain and macular degeneration continuously. It was an ordeal of broken sleep, exhaustion from the exertion of morphing, and dreading the arrival of the two-hour time limit. It was a gauntlet he had run nonstop until a month or two ago, when the ceasefire had been declared, and we realized that somehow, the human children and Elfangor’s younger brother had done the impossible. With the threat of the Yeerk invasion of Earth past, it seemed like something in Gafinilan had been put to rest as well. It had frightened me worse than my capture, worse than the bombings and aerial dogfights that had taken place over our once-peaceful neighborhood. If Gafinilan no longer needed to worry about the threat that the Yeerk presence on Earth posed to us, he seemed to feel it was no longer necessary to delay the inevitable.

It was only a couple of weeks afterwards that his eyesight began to fail in earnest.

<Very well,> I said. <I’ll contact them immediately.> Gafinilan nodded, too worn out from our short conversation for words, and began to morph.

I hadn’t realized that he meant to start right away, but I was glad of it. When he was fully human, I put a hand to his cheek and brushed his cheekbone with my thumb in a soft kiss. (Marco had once told me that humans didn’t kiss this way, as their faces were not as sensitive as Andalites’ faces, but his description of human kissing sounded, quite frankly, grotesque. But the gesture seemed to be meaningful to Gafinilan nonetheless.) <I’ll message them now,> I said. <You’re very brave.>

Gafinilan let out a loud, barklike human laugh. “That’s hard to accept, coming from you.” I couldn’t read his emotions as well in this alien form, cut off from thoughtspeak. I tilted my head quizzically. “I mean to say, between the two of us, you’ve always had more nerve.”

<Liar,> I said, but fondly. Gafinilan’s human eyes were watering. I brushed the tears away with my thumb. Andalites didn’t cry, not outwardly, but as long as he was in human morph, he had the dubious luxury of being able to manifest his emotions on his face. <I’m proud of you.>

  


* * *

  


The human aristh, Marco, had visited our home several times in the handful of months since his friends and Gafinilan had rescued me from the Abomination’s forces. On one occasion, when he came to warn us about the course the war was taking and the potential dangers we faced by remaining in California, he’d even brought Aximili. On another occasion, after the war, he’d brought his mother Eva, who had been the host of Visser One, and who had several excellent suggestions as to how to ensure our continued safety and anonymity now that the Yeerk threat on Earth was over. Our meetings on each of these occasions had been pleasant. Warm, even. So why was I so anxious now?

Oh. Because Gafinilan was on death’s door, and about to make a decision he still considered dishonorable, even though it would save his life, and had changed his mind half a dozen times since I had arranged a date and time with Marco and Aximili. And there was no guarantee he would stick to ‘yes’ between now and when the arisths arrived. That was why.

“If I do this-” Gafinilan said, pacing in human morph across our scoop.

<You mean, _when_ you do this,> I said dryly. What was left of my tail twitched in irritation. I couldn’t help it, but Gafinilan didn’t seem to notice.

“If I do this,” Gafinilan continued, as though I had said nothing, the pleasant, amber-colored face of Henry McClellan pinched with worry, “I’ll be trapped in the body of that _child._ ”

It occurred to me with a vague pang that if all went well, this was the last time I would see Henry McClellan. Just as well. <It’s been half an Earth year,> I said. <He must have grown some.>

“I’ll be an adolescent,” Gafinilan said despondently.

<You’re whining like one already,> I said.

“I’ll outlive you,” Gafinilan said, more quietly. “We’ve been inseparable all these years, Mertil. I cannot imagine a life without you.”

I sighed. So that was what this was about, or at least a part of it. I knew how he felt. I had considered the same prospect – of years alone, stretching dismally onward like the void of space – on the long days when Gafinilan was away, working at the human university, in what often felt like nothing so much as a dress rehearsal for the end. <I know, my love,> I said. <It seems as though it was not our fate to exit this life together. But we’ll have many years together before we need to concern ourselves with that.>

“You’re right,” Gafinilan said. “You’re right.” But he didn’t stop pacing the length of our scoop.

I sent a silent prayer to whatever gods are cursed with listening to the prayers of vecols that the arisths would be here any minute. Gafinilan had at least eighty percent of his time left in morph, but his last demorph had been a wretched ordeal, and the one after that would only be worse.

_Ding_. <That’s our doorbell,> I said. <They’re here.>

“Let’s meet them together,” Gafinilan said.

<You want me to come up to the human house with you?> I asked. <Isn’t that a bit of a risk?> I felt safer down in the scoop – the house had never really felt like _ours_ , as I’d only been in it a handful of times. Even though the war was over, we tried to avoid the unnecessary risk of letting our neighbors know that there were Andalites living next door.

“It is,” Gafinilan said. “But I don’t think I can face the arisths alone.”

<Let’s go then,> I said. I took his hand and we walked through the human kitchen. <We really have to stop calling them arisths,> I said in a feeble attempt at a joke. <Aximili was promoted to war-prince, and the human children who fought in the war received a number of military and civilian honors from their governments.>

“I won’t,” Gafinilan said. “At least, not in open thoughtspeak.” I fought back a grin. If Gafinilan was nervous, he wasn’t showing it. He was as sarcastic as ever.

We reached the front door. I looked at Gafinilan. He nodded. With some difficulty – human hands are stronger than those of Andalites – I opened the door.

Marco and Aximili were on the doorstep, Aximili in his natural form, but it looked as though there were two humans in the vehicle on the curb. One of the humans was Eva, Marco’s mother. The other I did not recognize. I took a step back from the door involuntarily. Though Gafinilan and I had long since discarded our inhibitions regarding my status as a _vecol_ and the cultural norms of isolation regarding those so designated, I still felt a reflexive instinct to avoid contact with people I had not established as confidantes. I didn’t know who these people were, and I didn’t like that.

“Hey Mertil,” Marco said cheerily. “Hey Gaf.”

“Marco, War-Prince Aximili,” Gafinilan said formally. “It is good to see you both. Thank you for making time to assist me at this delicate moment.”

<I would be worthy of no title if I refused to help in your time of need,> Aximili said, equally formally. <It is my honor to be of service to you, Commander Gafinilan.>

“Let’s get off the porch, folks,” Marco said. “The guys are trying to keep a low profile, and you’re not exactly inconspicuous, man.” This comment was addressed, rather inaccurately, to Aximili. Marco nudged him lightly with his shoulder.

“Before you come in, I must ask,” Gafinilan said. “Who are the others you’ve brought with you? You know as well as anyone the steps we’ve taken to ensure our privacy and anonymity.”

“Okay, so, about that,” Marco said. “Look, don’t get mad. It was my mom’s idea. Mertil, you’ve met her. You know how she gets.”

<What have you done, Marco?> I asked. I felt my hearts sinking to my hooves.

“We would have asked, but it was sorta spur-of-the-moment,” Marco said. “So you know how you said originally that you didn’t want to acquire Ax here because he’s so much younger than you? And physique-wise, he’s basically a Pomeranian to your Rottweiler-” I wasn’t following this particular analogy, but Gafinilan seemed to be.

<You are oversimplifying, Marco,> Aximili said impatiently. <It’s not simply a matter of biological age. I’ve explained before, there is a complex pattern of taboos and stigmas in our culture->

“Yeah, and _I’ve_ explained that we humans have those too, and that’s why we get hassled when you and I hold hands in public-”

“Your point, Marco?” Gafinilan asked. I could tell that he was exercising all the patience he could muster, even when he was in an alien body.

“My point being, my mom is friends with a bunch of ex-hosts – they have an organization, actually – and everybody who was involved has been in town for the trial, so when we got your call-”

<Oh, Marco,> I said. <You can’t have done what I think you've done.>

“I told you, it was my mom,” Marco said. “We just figured, he already knows everything about you from the kidnapping, so it’s not like we were revealing your location or your condition to anybody new, and if you’re looking for an adult Andalite who happens to be Earth-side and who happens to be a bit more broad-minded than the standard-issue alien these days...”

Gafinilan was at his breaking point. “If one of you doesn’t explain to me what is going on right now,” he said through gritted teeth, “my last act as an Andalite is going to be putting some tail on both of you.”

<In the months since gaining their freedom, Eva and Alloran-Semitur-Corass have formed a close bond,> Aximili said. <We have spent the last several weeks in Europe at the human war tribunal together. While Marco and I were making our preparations to visit you, Eva explained your decision to heal yourself using morphing technology to Alloran.> There was silence for a moment. Gafinilan's human expression was unreadable. <He immediately volunteered his DNA for you to acquire and insisted on coming with us. He is in the car in human morph now. Should you wish it, you may combine our genetic patterns using the Frolis Maneuver and create a healthy new Andalite body unique to you, quite close to your actual age. Only if you wish it. If you do not, Alloran will remain in the vehicle until Marco and I return, and we will never speak of it again.>

I could feel the fur on my shoulders and along my spine bristling. I slowed my pounding hearts before speaking, afraid I’d say something I’d later regret. <Marco, I know you meant no harm,> I said, <but you have badly interfered where you should not have by bringing Alloran here, without a word to me or Gafinilan. Informing someone else, much less another Andalite, about Gafinilan’s medical decisions is a gross violation of our privacy. My partner has a right to->

“Speak for himself,” Gafinilan said mildly. “Aximili, Marco, you have come a long way in order to help me. So have Eva and Alloran. All four of you have my thanks. Please invite them inside. It would be rude to keep them waiting.”

Aximili and Marco exchanged glances, then retreated to the car parked in the driveway to fetch the others. I looked to Gafinilan. Even without his stalk eyes, he could read the look on my face.

“Don’t start,” he said when they were out of earshot. “You and I did far stupider things when we were their age. They were thoughtless, yes, but not cruel.”

<They could have said something,> I insisted. <They could have _asked._ To surprise you with something like this—you have to demorph to acquire them, Gafinilan! They’ll see you at your sickest, your most vulnerable, _blinded_ ->

Gafinilan took my hand. “Mertil-katta,” Gafinilan said, the endearment sounding strange in his human mouth. “The fates work in mysterious ways. If we were back home on Andal, anyone who offered their DNA to me to cure me would have been considered a pariah, as would I. In all likelihood, I would be writing my _hirac delest_ , if I had not gone to meet my mother and father in the afterlife already.” I inhaled sharply at this. He was right, but it hurt to even consider it.

He smiled in the Andalite way, with his eyes. It looked surprisingly familiar on his strange human face. “Instead, under these strange skies, there are warriors are moving heaven and earth to lend me their genetic essence. I’m about to live out the rest of my days with you in a body made from the chromosomes of not one, but two war-princes.” He laughed. “Think about it. We’ll be practically royalty.”

After all this time, I shouldn’t have been surprised <Well, when you put it that way, I suppose it sounds all right,> I said. <Just don’t let it go to your head.>

He laughed again and placed his odd human hand against my cheek briefly. Another broken taboo to add to the list. “Let’s not keep our friends waiting.”

<No,> I said. <We have a life to start living.>

“Agreed.”

* * *

Despite my terrible fears, nothing went wrong.

The worst part of the process was when Gafinilan demorphed for the last time. The pain was so severe that he nearly became insensible. We had to revive him with a dangerously-high dose of illispar root before he was well enough to acquire DNA from Aximili and Alloran, combine them with the Frolis Maneuver, and morph into the body he would wear for the rest of his life. Gafinilan was embarrassed to have lost consciousness and collapsed to the floor in front of the humans and fellow Andalites, but after a gruff <don’t act like any of us here haven’t seen much worse, Commander> from Alloran, he pulled himself together and went through with the morph.

His new body was remarkable: not quite as tall at the shoulder as the one he’d been born with, but his fur had the Corass metallic sheen, and a fineness in the features of his face and the angle of his tail that was pure Aximili. What was more, and most important, he radiated health and vigor in a way that he hadn't since we were young, before he'd received the diagnosis. He couldn’t stop looking around the scoop, like he had never seen it before. I wondered if he had been downplaying the severity of his vision loss to avoid upsetting me. Slowly, carefully, Gafinilan got to his feet.

With one stalk eye, I noticed Marco and Aximili exchanging a glance. “Do you think he looks like Elfangor?” Marco whispered.

<I have excellent hearing, Marco,> Gafinilan said in booming thoughtspeak. Despite his new form, he sounded just like his old self.

<Do all Andalites look alike to you, child?> Alloran said scathingly. <Hush.>

Gafinilan took a few experimental steps before he dropped back to his haunches. He was very weak from many days of being unable to eat in his Andalite form, and I was sure he had not slept properly in months. <Thank you for this gift,> he said, simply and sincerely. <I would like to invite all of you to return tomorrow. I need time to rest and recover, and I would prefer to do so in private.>

“Of course,” Eva said. “We’ll leave you be. Feel better.”

<If you would like, I would invite you to join me in sharing the _illispar_ root when you return,> Gafinilan said. <Perhaps we can find a suitable substitute for Marco and Eva.>

“None of them are legal in this state,” Marco said. “Have at it. You Andalites knock yourselves out.”

<It’s a human expression, dear one,> Gafinilan told me in private thoughtspeak. <Calm down.>

As I showed them out, Alloran lingered for a moment before morphing human for the drive home after Aximili and the humans had gone. My main eyes met his. For a second, I thought I saw him flinch, but whatever the expression was – disgust at my condition, or perhaps fear – he pushed it away.

<You traveled a great distance to be here,> I said. <Especially when you were unsure of what your reception would be.>

<I had wondered for months what became of you and Commander Gafinilan, during and after my enslavement,> Alloran said. <Perhaps I should not have agreed to come until I knew that my presence was wanted. But I know what it is to be disgraced and rejected by our people, and if it lies within my power, I will consider it my duty to assist a fellow Andalite in need on Earth before I return home to my wife and children. Regardless of whether or not our people approve or disapprove, we are all brothers here. There is no room on this planet any more for division.>

<There are many who would not have done the same,> I said. <You have Gafinilan’s thanks. And mine.>

<For many years, my body was used for many evil purposes against my will, to harm Andalites and aliens alike,> Alloran said. In his thoughtspeak, I could hear the depression, the stifling, endless panic, and the despair from his many months of infestation. <It is my honor and privilege to put it to good use. To make amends.>

<Have you made right all that can be made right?> I asked. <Have you learned all that can be learned?>

<No to the first one,> Alloran said thoughtfully. <There’s more to be done for the Hork-Bajir here on Earth. But yes to the second. So I won’t claim forgiveness yet, but this helped.> He raised his tail in a salute. <Fly true, Lieutenant.>

<Fly true, War-Prince Alloran.>

He tapped my shoulder with the flat of his tail blade in a departing wave, morphed human, and joined the others in the car. As they drove away, I went back downstairs to tend to Gafinilan.

The two-hour mark came and went without us acknowledging it. What was done was done.

The rest of the day was spent slowly, with Gafinilan alternating between sleeping and eating as much of the liquified grass nutrient blend we had prepared as he could manage. He was still horribly weak from his long ordeal of agony, but he grew stronger by the hour. It was different, holding him close in his new form. For the first time in many years, he was about my size.

<Just you wait, though,> he told me sleepily after finishing his fourth set of rations of the night, dozing against my chest. <I’m going to find somewhere to go running and put on some muscle, and I’ll be back to normal in no time.>

<There’s no need to hurry on my account, my love,> I said, soothing the fur on his withers and tracing the delicate pattern in his coat with my fingers. <For once, we have all the time in the world.>

**Author's Note:**

> I borrowed the headcanon that Eva and Alloran become besties from the inimitable Eleutherophobia series (https://archiveofourown.org/series/151619). I've picked up little bits and pieces of headcanon about Andalite culture from Tumblr, especially here (https://animorphsfanfic.tumblr.com/) and here (https://acavatica.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Doing my best for a fic exchange, and I decided to write about Gafinilan and Mertil because a) my fic buddy asked for Andalites, b) I love them and think they deserve better, and c) I hated the idea of Gafinilan just choosing to die because he considered it honorable when there were other big taboos that he was willing to break. If I portrayed anything poorly re: chronic illness/disability, please let me know your thoughts! I'm not writing from personal experience so I welcome input from anybody who has had those experiences.


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